


The Time Keeper's Diary

by saltsmoke



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dormant Time Powers, Eventual Fluff, F/F, Post-Save Arcadia Bay Ending, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-12 08:32:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15991526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltsmoke/pseuds/saltsmoke
Summary: Years have passed since Chloe Price became just another name on a headstone in Arcadia Bay. Max fled the town and the west coast after she left her friend to die in Blackwell's bathroom and found solace in New York working for a low-level newspaper outlet. Now twenty-three and holding a steady job, a normal life is close enough to grasp.Chloe wakes up after five years in a city she doesn't recognize with only an address scribbled on a piece of paper in her pocket. Can she ever figure out what happened when she was gone?





	1. Divisible Portions of Time

Max Caulfield woke with a start, a strangled gasp pushing past her lips. Her hands instinctively went to her wrists and then to her neck while her eyes darted around her shoebox apartment. She could still hear his voice even though she was awake. It was a constant thing now, it was always there and taunting her, a constant reminder of the week from hell. Max’s eyes flickered to the wall where the photo from that awful day hung. She’d never had the heart to get rid of it. Five years since Chloe’s been gone and five years since she last used her powers. She made a promise to herself after letting her best friend die that she wouldn’t use her rewind anymore. It was more of a spiteful pact she’d made with the universe. The more she used it, the more the universe did to undo everything she did. Not using the rewind resulted in a less confusing and for once, constant timeline. Max hated it all. She knew there were other realities where Chloe was alive and with her or even with Rachel and she knew that there was a reality where Max chose Chloe above all else. She often wondered if the other Max and other Chloe ever got the chance to be happy after watching Arcadia Bay turn to dust. She held hope that they did because this timeline was unbearable. Max was drowning in guilt from mistakes made years ago and she learned how to conceal it. She masked it with smiles and a steady job and a few friends that she knew enough about but not nearly enough to be involved with them. She went out with people to try to drive the pain away but nothing worked, not when looking from the inside out. The other way around was much different. Everyone thought she was happy, that Chloe Price was just some girl she once knew ten years ago and only ever saw when she was bleeding out on a bathroom floor with her life fleeting. Max was still angry at the world for making her choose and she knew a long time ago that she’d chose the wrong thing. 

She sucked in a breath and laid back down, diverting her attention to the clock on the table beside her bed. 

3:46 A.M.

Max groaned and rolled onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow. Work would come beckoning in less than three hours and she doubted she’d get any sleep after the nightmare. There were always nightmares. Sometimes of the dark room and sometimes of the lighthouse with Chloe, watching the storm threaten the town she grew up in. Chloe always said different things in each one. 

You killed me, Max... Best friend? Best friends don’t sacrifice each other... I hated Arcadia Bay and you still chose it over me... You let me die in a Blackwell bathroom... You failed me, Max.

Max never forgot what her voice sounded like. All the distorted messages and all the fucked up things Chloe said to her in those dreams still sounded like her. It was a tiny bit of relief in a sea of sadness. Max couldn’t even live with staying in Arcadia Bay. About a month after Chloe’s funeral and weeks after Nathan confessed everything to the police regarding Jefferson, Max left the Bay and went back to Seattle to finish out her senior year. She moved to New York not long after that and luckily landed a job as a freelance and then staff photographer. The job was less than ideal but it paid the bills and for Max, that was enough. That week left a lasting imprint on her. Where she wasn’t ready to accept the bare minimum before, she was now. 

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, casting a glance over to her clock to see that barely a half hour had gone by. Max forced her eyes shut and willed for sleep to take her. It did, an hour and a half later when the sun began to shine through her curtains. 

 

In another hour she was up, shuffling around her apartment like a zombie. She showered and ate all within the hour and just finished dressing when her phone dinged. Max searched her desk, carefully placing the folder of photos she was selling aside and tossing the rest aside until she found the small device. 

Kate 7:13 AM  
Hey, Max! Thanks again for the pictures!

Max 7:15 AM  
Anytime, Kate!

Max would be lying if she said it was easy to forget all about the Bay. She still kept in touch with Kate, and sometimes even Victoria despite their differences. As much as she wanted to forget about the coastal town, she couldn’t. She’d thought about it everyday; thought that the only reason it’s still standing is because Chloe was dead. The photo was a constant reminder of that. She’d kept it all these years and she wanted to use it on more than one occasion but always stopped herself at the last minute. She knew what would happen if she went back and she knew she’d let Arcadia Bay burn if she ever did. The people there didn’t deserve that. 

Neither did Chloe, a voice in her head whispered. She shut it out and pushed her phone into her bag with her laptop before grabbing the folder of photos. She had another forty minutes before she had to be at the office but the deal always went over more smoothly when she showed up early. A five minute train ride ensured that she arrived early every day she was supposed to. 

She left her apartment and moved down the stairs to the street, following the herd of people heading for the subway. The train she was on was crowded beyond belief and she was squeezed between two people taller than her and it made her feel boxed. It was an everyday experience and she kind of enjoyed the familiarity of it all. Her stop arrived before she could finish her thought and she got off and traveled back up to the street, taking in the view. It never really got old. The time powers she had made her feel on top of the world at times and this city reminded her she wasn’t and it was something she desperately needed. 

The office was just around the corner but the two minute walk turned into ten because of the early morning hustle of everyone trying to get to work. She was still early with fifteen minutes to spare when she got through the front door and entered the elevator, her destination being the top floor. 

The meeting overall took no more than a few minutes. She was getting paid what a staff photographer would get for a minimum of three photos and she couldn’t complain. It could be worse. She could still be freelance. Max shuddered at the thought as she left the building and went wherever the river of people on the sidewalk led her. The pay was mediocre for a low-level outlet but it paid the bills and still left some cushion for other things. 

Max pulled out her camera, snapping a few photos here and there. She’d since switched to a digital camera and only used her Polaroid on occasion. She kept this up until the sun was high and her stomach reminded her that she needed food. She found herself in a small café after a while and quickly rattled off what she wanted. Coffee and a donut would be good enough to get her through until dinner. She got her things and sat at one of the tables facing a window, pulling her laptop out and turning it on. She spent a little time just scrolling through her social media before one of the TVs behind her caught her attention. She turned around and saw the last bit of a video of snow falling in the city despite the warm temperatures. When Max turned back around she could see it. The flakes of snow falling despite the sun shining without a cloud in sight. 

Her belongings where thrown into her bag and the leftover food thrown out before she left the building and rushed home. The panic set in approximately one second after her brain registered what it meant. She more or less ran home, ignoring other means of transportation. Max fumbled with her keys and used a shaky hand to unlock her door before rushing in, pressing her back to it when it was closed and locked, sinking down until her knees were against her chest. Fear, panic, dread. Everything she felt during that week and on the cliff came rushing back like a freight train. Max didn’t move for hours and went between bouts of crying and anger before she eventually dragged herself to bed and fell asleep from the exhaustion.


	2. How to Remember

Chloe Price wandered around the streets of Manhattan with no specific direction or destination in mind. She couldn’t even remember how she got there. It was like waking up from a bad dream. The last thing she could vividly remember was meeting Nathan Prescott in the bathroom at Blackwell. Everything after that point was nonexistent. There was no residual memory, nothing Chloe could use to make sense of what happened there or how she got to where she was now. She was smart enough to realize she was in New York. Certain landmarks were easily recognizable. She knew just enough to know where she was and that it wasn’t where she was supposed to be. 

She’d searched her pockets thoroughly when she woke up and found forty bucks and a little piece of paper that looked like it’d been torn from a bigger one with only an address on it. Chloe had no clue how to find it but during her searching, she came across a gas station and bought a pack of cigarettes and a new lighter. One of them hung from her lips, unlit and forgotten while she read the address on the paper over and over again as if committing it to memory would somehow help her find the damn place. 

“Fuck,” Chloe muttered, reaching out and grabbing a stranger by the elbow before holding up the small slip of paper, “Do you know where this is?”

The woman, after getting over her initial shock, gave Chloe clear directions on how to get to the apartment building. She’d have to take a train and she could barely remember which one and which stop by the time the lady stopped talking. Chloe shook her head when she walked away, muttering something about how the world was fucking with her while she pulled the lighter out and lit the cigarette. She inhaled as deeply as she could, savoring the feeling of the nicotine entering her system. It felt like she hadn’t smoked in years. She pulled the paper back to her face after breathing out a cloud of smoke and tried her best to recall the lady’s directions. She descended the stairs to the first subway she found and asked a man in a suit if it was the one she was supposed to be at. 

She was at the right one, but she’d missed the train. Her frustration started to boil over until the man informed her that the building was only a few blocks away and he was kind enough to follow her back up to the street and point her in the right direction. He’d even told her the name of the building and now that she knew it, she hoped it would be easier to spot. Everything was starting to look the same to her. All the buildings started to blend together and become blurry. 

“What th—” Chloe all the sudden felt like she was being pulled into another dimension but everything was black. She was floating but she couldn’t see anything. She could hear things though. It sounded like a conversation, one she’d heard before from somewhere. 

‘I’ll always love you. Now get out of here, please, do it before I freak. And Max Caulfield? Don’t you forget about me...’ 

Chloe crashed back to consciousness, blinking and rubbing her eyes before opening them to see the street again. She looked around at the people, her heart speeding up in her chest. Nothing looked different. It’s like that just didn’t happened. Chloe took out and lit another cigarette, finishing it within minutes of starting it as she moved towards her destination. 

“What the fuck is going on?” She mumbled to herself as she shook her head, lifting her free hand to run her fingers through her hair and lift her beanie off at the same time. She stuffed it in her pocket and flicked the butt of the cigarette into the street, flipping off whoever who told her she was littering. 

She tried her hardest to think about why she’d been addressing Max in... whatever that was. It sounded so real, so sincere, but she couldn’t remember saying it at all. The last thing she remembered about Max was how she abandoned her after her dad died. Anger flared inside her at the thought. 

“Not a word for five years and now I’m having visions or dreams or whatever the fuck about her?” Chloe knew she didn’t have a chance at figuring it out but tried to make sense of it anyway. She pulled the paper out and looked at it again and then up at the buildings she was passing. She walked another half block before finding the one she was looking for. Central Park Apartments. Ironically named, she thought, since she couldn’t see the park from the front door. She looked at the paper one more time to check the apartment number before balling it up and stuffing it in her back pocket. Chloe pulled the door open with a huff and stepped through, immediately heading for the stairs since she doubted apartment 7 would be on the first floor. 

Chloe stood in front of apartment 7, just staring at the door. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know who lived inside. She wasn’t sure why she had their address. She wasn’t sure about anything and she couldn’t bring herself to knock. It had to have been almost twenty minutes before a woman came out of the apartment to her left and it was another thirty seconds of awkwardness as Chloe tried to explain why she was just staring at someone’s door like it opened into another reality. 

“Uh...” Chloe trailed off, unsure of how to continue. 

“Are you waiting for someone?” 

“Uhm, I guess?” Chloe shrugged, a hand nervously going to the back of her neck. 

“Well, alright. I heard her come home a couple hours ago but nothin’ since,” the woman, who was kind of short and looked to be in her late 30s clarified, ”Were you just starin’ or did you plan on knocking?” 

Chloe’s face twisted into annoyance while the woman smiled. She didn’t need to be teased by a stranger today, or any day, but especially not this one. The woman took it upon herself to keep talking through Chloe’s annoyance. 

“My names Arizona,” she explained as she walked forward, brushing past Chloe to knock on the door. The sound made her jump and there was a split second where she froze and was scared of who might answer. “And you are?”

“Chloe,” she mumbled, turning on her heel and moving over to sit on the top stair. She didn’t have it in her to be there when the door swung open and when it didn’t right away, Arizona knocked again. And again. A total of four times until she heard the lock turn and click and the doorknob rattle.


	3. Those Ocean Eyes

There was a moment of peace when Max woke up. The knocking hadn’t yet registered and the snow from earlier didn’t cross her mind. It was only a second. The weight was back on her chest a moment later. Everything she’d done to prevent another storm. She let Chloe die, she hadn’t used her rewind since that week. Or ever, if she was being technical. 

Max rose from the bed slowly, ignoring the knocking for the time being. She moved around her apartment, taking everything in with a distant gaze. All of this would be gone in a week if she was right. She desperately wanted to not be right. Another storm of the same caliber would devastate the city. 

Her senses were clouded and everything felt like she was underwater. She had no idea what she’d done wrong. The walls she built up were threatening to crash and crush her at any time. 

“Maybe you’re just overreacting,” Max mumbled to herself and shook her head, lifting both hands to fix her hair and smooth down her clothes before heading towards the door. She bent down and picked up her bag and keys and moved them over to her desk before shuffling over to unlock the door. The lock was stuck, of course. Max had to shake the doorknob to get it open but it only took a second. She was met by her neighbor and she was sure her face conveyed surprise. They’d only spoken a handful of times and only half of them were pleasant. The second thing Max noticed was the small smile the woman wore as she ushered her out of the apartment. 

“This young lady over here was waiting for you,” Max let her speak and began to shift her body when the sound of someone standing up reached her, “Her name is Chl—”

“Chloe,” Max breathed the name like a prayer, her body frozen in place when she came to face the girl, who didn’t look a day over 19. She looked exactly how she did the last time Max saw her at Blackwell, although the beanie was missing from her head. 

“Max?” Chloe looked even more confused now, especially since she still thought it’d only been five years since she’d last seen her and this Max looked like she was into her twenties. The rebel took a hesitant step forward before she was crushed in a hug. Max lurched forward and held Chloe in a vice grip. Her face was pressed against her neck and the tears were falling freely now. Max was sure she was saying something but her thoughts were deafening and she couldn’t hear herself. Her eyes were pressed closed so tightly she saw white and the only thing she focused on was Chloe. The feeling of her body pressed to hers and the smell of cigarettes in her nose made her calm down within minutes but she never detached herself from Chloe. 

On Chloe’s part, she stood frozen with her childhood best friend clinging to her. Her arms hung at her sides through the entire thing and she just watched Max’s neighbor smile and slowly retreat back to her own apartment. The constant mumbles she heard from Max did nothing to ease her confusion either. She’d only caught a few words and couldn’t make sense of them if she wanted to. Something about snow and a storm and time powers and Chloe being dead for the last five years. It was too much all at once. 

Chloe gently eased Max’s arms from around her body and stepped back with her hands on her friends shoulders. Max was a mess. Her eyes were red and puffy and she looked beaten and broken. Chloe realized she didn’t feel angry like she should’ve. She should’ve yelled at Max for what she did but the only thing she could do was pull her back into a hug, this time with Chloe’s arms holding Max while her body stiffened. 

“Chloe,” Max said through the tears, her arms coming up to wrap around Chloe’s waist, “I’m so sorry. I tried, I really did. I should have picked you.” 

The words were so jumbled together and rushed that Chloe barely caught the entire thing. 

“I have no fucking clue what the hell you’re talking about, Max.” Chloe pulled away and almost laughed from the weirdness of the whole situation. She pulled Max into her apartment and closed the door before moving the photographer to her bed. Max looked like a statue while Chloe walked around the apartment, looking at everything she had. She mostly focused on the photos. She found ones of New York and even some of Arcadia Bay and not as many selfies as she expected to find. There were even pictures of the both of them when they were younger before the world turned to shit. Chloe was about to go over to Max when she saw a picture of a butterfly. She remembered it but couldn’t pinpoint from where. She pulled it from the wall and turned, nearly jumping when Max seemed to materialize beside her. The brunette pulled the photo from Chloe’s hand and ripped it in two before letting the pieces fall to the floor. 

Max turned around and walked back to the bed, sitting down and resting her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. Chloe was sure she was crying again, only silently this time. She followed her over, stopping when she spotted a number of pill bottles on the bedside table. Chloe picked each of them up in turn, looking at all the names before turning back to Max. 

“Max, you have to tell me what you meant earlier. What storm? What should you have picked me for?” Chloe put the bottles down and sat next to the brunette, leaning over to bump shoulders with her when she didn’t respond. The silence continued and Chloe’s annoyance was back. “You have to talk to me, Max. I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I wake up with your address in my pocket just to come here and have you start saying all this hella weird shit with no fucking explanation?” 

Max could feel the anger radiating off Chloe and it was easier somehow that she was pissed at her. In the very least, it felt right. 

“I can’t—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Max. You owe me that,” Chloe was right, of course. Max did owe her. She owed Chloe more than she’d ever know. 

The brunette was silent for another few minutes and it only made Chloe’s anger rise. Max didn’t speak until it looked like she might be yelled at if she didn’t. 

“Fine,” Max lifted her face from her hands, taking a second to rub her eyes before turning to look at Chloe, “Do you remember going to Blackwell to meet Nathan?”


	4. We’ve Had Some Dark Days

Max spent the better part of the night explaining everything from that week. Somewhere in the middle she’d ordered a pizza but barely ate.

She explained everything about Nathan and Jefferson and Rachel, everything about her time powers and all the times Chloe had died. She told Chloe about her funeral and how she left Arcadia after it and then left the coast altogether because she couldn’t stand what she did and had to leave to figure out how to forgive herself. 

Chloe didn’t believe everything she said at first. She believed the things about Rachel but was still adamant that she was her angel, even through all the bullshit. Max couldn’t help but smile at the similarities of the different timelines. 

Chloe didn’t react how Max had expected though. Not fully, anyway. Max expected her to be angrier, she expected her to yell and scream about how she was wrong for letting her die but for a long time after talking about Rachel, she was just quiet. She wasn’t really looking anywhere, just staring at things without actually seeing them. Max wondered how much more she should say for the night; the last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm Chloe with everything. The brunette barely understood it all and she’d lived through it, she couldn’t even begin to imagine what it sounded like from Chloe’s side. 

The two sat there for what seemed like hours even though the moon had barely risen by the time Chloe spoke again. 

“What happened to me?” She twisted to stare at Max, who resembled a deer caught in headlights. She knew what she wanted to say but the look of Chloe is what made her hesitate. Max reached towards her and laid her hand on Chloe’s forearm, shaking her head. 

“Not tonight,” Max’s voice was barely above a whisper, “it can wait until tomorrow.” 

Chloe looked like she was mourning everyone she’d ever lost all over again until Max finished speaking, which is when the anger consumed her. She was up in the blink of an eye, pacing in front of Max like she was a second away from blowing up completely. 

“You don’t get to decide that, Max! You can’t just pick and choose what I do and don’t get to know!” Max shrank under both Chloe’s words and her glare. She knew better than to try to calm Chloe down when she was like this. This is what she wanted, right? For Chloe to be angry. Being blamed is easier that being guilty, she thought. She’d spent ten years being guilty, being blamed was a nice change of pace. 

Max opened her mouth to speak, her gaze lifting to meet Chloe’s. She wished she hadn’t done that. 

Chloe sank to her knees, her arms wrapped tightly around them while she cried quietly. Max sat there for too long before sliding off the bed to sit beside her, hesitantly moving her arm to wrap around Chloe’s shoulders. Chloe turned her entire body, wrapping herself around Max like Max had done to her in the hallway. 

“You died. Nathan shot you when you went to meet him that day. I was there, in the corner. I found out I have this fucked up power to rewind time from saving you,” Max paused, closing her eyes and desperately hoping she could keep herself together long enough to finish. 

“And then the storm came and you told me to go back and let you die to stop it,” she paused again, squeezing Chloe tighter against her chest when her sobs got louder, “and I did. I used the picture of the butterfly and went back to that day and I let you die.” 

Chloe wasn’t making anymore noise after that but she was still crying. Max held her for a little while longer before coaxing her back to the bed. She helped Chloe out of her boots and jacket before she laid down, letting Max pull the blanket over her. The brunette sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, her hand a victim to Chloe’s grip. 

“How long?” Chloe whispered when Max pulled her hand away, “How long was I.. dead for?” 

Max’s heart broke not for the first time that night while her head tilted down, a breath leaving her parted lips while she wondered if she should tell Chloe the truth. 

“It’s been five years, Chloe,” Max whispered, standing a second after she answered. She heard Chloe start crying again but she couldn’t look at her. She couldn’t go through the guilt of the last five years again. She was just starting to feel like she had a normal life. 

Max busied herself with putting the leftover pizza away and she picked up the ripped photo and threw the pieces away. She hoped Chloe understood why she did it. Maybe it was selfish of her but she knew that if she had to make the same impossible choice again, she’d choose Chloe in a heartbeat. Five years had passed and Max still had all those feelings for Chloe buried somewhere inside her. 

She leaned against the counter and stared out of her window, looking at the moon to make sure there was still only one of them. She turned around when she heard shuffling behind her to find Chloe up and sliding back into her boots and jacket. Max’s eyes widened, her mouth opening to protest but no words came out. Chloe said nothing when their gazes met. Poorly masked anger looking back at sadness.

The brunette followed Chloe when she walked towards the door and reached out to stop her. Chloe stopped and turned around, shooting Max a death glare. 

“Five years, Max? And you had the fucking photo to go back and change it? You act so broken up about it all but you could’ve gone back again,” Chloe’s words carried venom with each syllable. She pulled her arm free and left, slamming the door before Max even had the chance to respond.


	5. You Really Know How to Make Me Cry

Chloe couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of being dead for the past five years. 

Did she even really exist? Is there a body still buried beneath the stone with her name carved into it? How could she ever see Joyce again? Or better yet, how could she stay away? 

Max was still staring at the door like it’d swing open and Chloe would return at any moment. She prayed to every god she did and didn’t believe in for Chloe to come back and just let her explain. Was that too much to ask for?

Chloe, of course, stayed angry. She had the right to be. She’d just listened to Max cry about how she should’ve picked her but had the chance to do it for five years. It was all too much for her to handle. Being dead, somehow coming back, time powers, and now a best friend she couldn’t trust. She wished this day would fall with the rest she wouldn’t ever remember. 

But she was still curious; she wanted to know more and she wasn’t sure she could even be in the same room as the person who was capable of giving her the answers. 

Max was still staring at the door with her arm bent across her body to hold her other one. In a matter of minutes she was reduced back to the scared 18 year old girl who found out she could reverse time. She eventually walked away from the door, moving over to the photo wall over her bed. She’d tried to recreate the one she had at Blackwell but could never get it just right. The brunette reached out and touched each photo she looked at, ripping some of them off the wall and letting them drift to the floor. 

“I can’t fix anything,” she said aloud, running her hands through her hair. 

“Maybe you can,” Max heard Chloe say from behind her. She hadn’t even heard the door open, “and you can start by telling me everything. Everything, Max. Not just the things you think I can handle.”

The brunette turned to face her, dropping her gaze and shaking her head. 

“Chloe, I don’t know what else to tell you. I—”

“So answer me this, if I hadn’t somehow popped up here, would you have gone back? You wouldn’t have, huh? Then again, I could be wrong,” Chloe paused, taking a moment to enter the apartment and close the door before leaning her back against it, “about anyone else. Not you, Max. I know you too well.”

Max was frozen in place, unsure of what to say. It was a death sentence either way she answered. She doubted Chloe would believe her if she told the truth anyway. 

“I wanted to. So badly. I almost did it a few times,” Max’s voice was quiet but easily heard through the thick atmosphere surrounding the girls. 

“But?”

“But I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” 

“I couldn’t, Chloe! I couldn’t go back and kill thousands of people, maybe even Joyce, just because I wanted you back!” Max silently reprimanded herself for the outburst but now it was her turn to be angry and she thought it was justified.

“You don’t get to just play god, Max!” 

“Who else was going to? You? You’re not the one with time powers! You’re not the one who had to go through the last five years constantly lying to everyone!” 

“I was dead,” Chloe’s tone caught Max off guard and the anger suddenly dissipated. Chloe spoke calmly, like she was trying to remind Max and herself, “and you let me die.”

“You told me to let you go!” Max didn’t scream so much from the anger, but from the guilt. She was on her knees in the next second, a sob shaking her body while she apologized over and over. 

Chloe walked over and dropped beside her, tears of her own shining in the light. She wanted to comfort Max but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She just watched, occasionally sniffling. She waited until Max calmed down to speak again, afraid that it would send Max spiraling if she said it while she was already falling apart. 

“You weren’t supposed to listen to me,” Chloe whispered, resting her hand on Max’s shoulder. The brunette lifted her head to look at her with tear soaked cheeks and a quivering lip. 

Chloe felt bad for her but wouldn’t ever say it. Maybe she was being selfish by making Max feel guilty. Maybe this was her revenge for not five years of betrayal, but ten. 

“That’s unfair,” the words were strained when Max said them. It was clear she didn’t trust her voice to say more than that. 

“I know,” was all Chloe said when she stood, bringing Max with her. As angry as she was, she still hated watching Max suffer. She helped the brunette onto the bed and covered her up like she’d done for her before and reluctantly pulled her hand free when Max tried to hold onto it. 

“Chlo—”

“Go to sleep, Max. It’s really late.” 

Max nodded, partly because she knew she wouldn’t win an argument right now and partly because she didn’t have the energy to try. She rolled onto her side and curled into a ball, crying quieter than she was before. 

Chloe stood by the bed for a few more seconds, breathing a sigh of relief when Max listened. She walked back to the door to lock it before sliding her jacket off and draping it over the back of Max’s office chair. She sat down and pulled her boots off, leaning back before drifting off.


	6. Former Heroes

_ Max was back at the lighthouse. The rain was getting stronger. It was coming down in waves, each one worse than the last. Chloe was beside her, watching the storm with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. It was all her fault.  _ __   
__   
_ Max looked over Arcadia Bay with a terrible feeling of guilt building in her chest. She knew how to stop it. She knew how to save everyone except the one person who needed it.  _ __   
__   
_ The photo of the butterfly materialized in her hand and pulled her attention away from the town. Max looked at it, thinking that it was cursed. The butterfly mocked her and she had to wonder why the universe was out to get her. What had she done to deserve this? What had she done to be put in a position to make this choice? Why did the fate of an entire town rest on the shoulders of an 18 year old girl?  _ __   
__   
_ Max looked back at Chloe, her tears mixing with the rain. She knew what she had to do and what she wanted to do. Chloe hadn’t said anything, though. She was staring at the storm, probably thinking the same thing Max was.  _ __   
__   
_ “This is all your fault,” the voice broke through the wind but it wasn’t Chloe’s. It was hers.  _ __   
__   
_ Max spun around and saw her reflection staring back at her with narrowed eyes and she could feel herself do the same.  _ __   
__   
_ “Why me?” Max questioned, taking another second to notice that everything was frozen. Leaves were frozen in place and she could almost see the individual droplets of rain. _ __   
__   
_ “Why not you?” The Other Max answered with amusement lacing her words. “You were just drifting through life. You should be thanking me for giving you a purpose.”  _ __   
__   
_ “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask for any of this!” The brunette could feel the anger building in her.  _ __   
__   
_ “You could’ve been better, Max. You could’ve done great things with your powers and you chose to waste them on a burnout,” Max flinched at the words, remembering the pain she felt every time Chloe was killed and the relief she felt every time she brought her back.  _ __   
__   
_ “You should’ve let her die the first time,” Other Max was piling it on, trying to get a reaction. Max wouldn’t give her one.  _ __   
__   
_ She did what she should have done five years ago and ripped the photo in two, letting it fall from her grasp. The pieces never touched the ground, they froze in place the second they left Max’s hands.  _ __   
__   
_ “Oh, Max. So willing to do anything for Chloe. What about Kate? Warren? Even Victoria? What about Joyce? What are all those lives compared to hers?”  _ __   
__   
_ “I know what it feels like to lose her. I won’t do it again,” Max declared with all the confidence she could manage.  _ __   
__   
_ “Fine. Have it your way,” Other Max disappeared after she spoke and the world carried on.  _ __   
__   
_ Max went back to Chloe and grabbed her hand, watching the storm take Arcadia Bay with a fire burning in her eyes, thinking that this is what she was destined to do.  _ __   
  
The first thing Max noticed when she woke up was that she was crying. There was no yelling or violent sobbing. The silence was deafening. She thought she was alone until she heard Chloe breathing softly from somewhere else in the apartment. Max almost forgot she was back. More tears fell when the memories of the night before hit her. This was her fault. All of it. She should’ve let Arcadia Bay get destroyed back when she had the chance to.   
  
But the people. They didn’t deserve to die any more than Chloe did. What is it that people said? Sacrifice the few to save the many. Max made that choice and couldn’t deal with the aftermath. She had blood on her hands that she couldn’t wash off and there was a blackness to her lungs that only got worse through the years. She couldn’t remember what it felt like to be innocent. She became a catalyst for everything bad in her life. More than once she wondered if it would’ve been better had she never returned to the Bay.    
  
And then Chloe would be dead anyway, and Kate would be dead with her. Jefferson would be free and Rachel would still be in that shallow grave at the junkyard. Sometimes she wondered if the justice was worth the pain to get it.    
  
Max sat up and rubbed her eyes, holding her face in her hands for a few seconds. The last five years hadn’t been kind to her and she feared this would be the beginning of the end of the semi-normal life she’d worked so hard to achieve.    
  
She slid out of the bed with a yawn, stretching before grabbing a change of clothes and sliding into the small bathroom that belonged to her. She didn’t bother waking Chloe, figuring that being dead for five years was probably a tiring affair.    
  
Max stood under the lukewarm water, trying to keep herself from having a panic attack. Chloe was back, but how? The snow came again, but for what reason? She had nothing to do with Chloe coming back this time. She hadn’t even used her rewind. She contemplated trying to figure out what happened and why Chloe was back but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. She’d been running from time for years and she promised herself she’d never go back. She could run again. Just keep running. Avoid all the death and destruction she’d leave in her wake.    
  
“I can’t,” Max whispered to herself, leaning against the tiled wall. She slid down until her knees were tucked against her chest. She tried not to cry again. She tried, she really did. She tried not to cry, she tried to make the right decision five years ago, she tried to run and move on. She failed every time.    
  
Now she was sobbing, her shoulders shaking with each one. Her lungs burned for air that wouldn’t come and her cheeks were warm from the tears. Max just hoped this story had a better ending than her last one.    
  
Max came out of the bathroom close to a half hour later with puffy eyes and a stuffed nose. She stopped in the doorway and leaned against the frame, watching Chloe go through the fridge to find the pizza left over from last night. It brought a small smile to Max’s face and it was almost a glimpse into the life they could’ve had if Max had picked her.    
  
The smile fell as soon as it came and the brunette made her entrance known by throwing her dirty clothes into a basket in front of her closet. The clothes she put on resembled her past self; her style hadn’t changed very much from when she was a teenager.    
  
If Chloe heard her, she didn’t show it. She stayed bent over with her hand in the pizza box until she pulled two slices out. She took a bite of one and walked over and offered the other to Max. The brunette was hesitant to accept but forced a smile and took it anyway. They were lost in their own thoughts after that and they finished in silence.    
  
“So.. how about you show me the sights, Mad Max?” Chloe was the first to break the silence and Max was surprised at how amiable she was trying to be.    
  
Max was lost for words; she expected more anger, more accusations, more anything. She wasn’t expecting Chloe to act like the day before never happened.    
  
“Geez, Max. Don’t look so surprised. I’m still pissed, okay? Being stuck in this apartment is gonna make it worse so let’s get out. I wanna know what’s so great about this city, anyway.”   
  
Max had nothing to say to that. She stood and grabbed her jacket and keys and waited for Chloe to get ready. It only look about a minute since the only thing she had to put on was her boots and jacket. Maybe they could go shopping together when Chloe didn’t despise her. They left seconds later, both of them thankful for the fresh air. The tension between them could be suffocating, especially in a small place.    
  
They walked for a few blocks since neither of them had a specific destination in mind. They had just stepped into the street to cross it when a truck barreled down the road without ever slowing down.    
  
  
  
Max turned in time to notice.    
  
Chloe didn’t.  


	7. You Just Freefall, May We All

The sound of broken bones and shattered glass was deafening.    
  
_ No! Chloe! _ __   
__   
Max lifted her hand on instinct and she immediately felt what five years of not using her powers was like. She had a splitting headache already and she could feel her head throb like it had it’s own heartbeat. She felt the fibers of time split apart and reverse. It was excruciatingly slow. Max watched in horror as the scene went backwards. The truck stopped and started moving back, the pieces of glass came back together, and Chloe slid off the hood of the truck until she was standing beside the brunette again.    
  
Max felt the blood come slowly, flowing until it was a steady drip. She watched the world turn, and even she couldn’t deny how amazing it was to experience. It was a fucked up power that she wished she never had but pulling time apart and putting it back together was a feeling nothing else could compare to.    
  
It made her wonder how many timelines were out there. Did she create new ones or overwrite old ones? Did the crash continue in another reality? Did Max create a new one instead?     
  
The fibers came back together when Max let time go and she immediately reached for Chloe, dragging her away from the street with one arm around her waist and the other gripping her jacket.    
  
“Max? Max! Whoa, dude!” Chloe would’ve fallen from Max pulling her if the brunette hadn’t had an arm around her. She would’ve been angry if she hadn’t seen the blood gathered on Max’s lip.    
  
“The truck,” Max sounded out of breath and she looked like she was in even worse shape. Chloe maneuvered them until she was the one holding Max up.    
  
“What? What tru—” Chloe couldn’t finish before she heard it: a symphony of horns and the unmistakable smell of burning rubber. She never turned around. Hearing it was bad enough. The sound of a collision brought back terrible memories and Chloe was glad that no one was paying any attention to them.    
  
She opened her eyes after realizing she’d been holding them shut to find Max slumped against her. Not quite unconscious but not awake either. Chloe had to basically carry her over to a bench in front of a storefront and she used her shirt to wipe the blood from Max’s face.    
  
_ There’s so much blood _ , Chloe thought. She kept her shirt pressed to Max’s nose for a few seconds, hoping it would stop until she got Max back home but she didn’t have the slightest clue how she was going to do that. A girl looking like she did and dragging an unconscious innocent looking girl through the streets of New York City would draw too much unwanted attention.    
  
Maybe she could get them both away undetected with everyone focusing on the car crash.    
  
_ Max was falling. Slowly. Slower. Until she stopped. Everything was white. The brightness burned her eyes and she lifted her hand to shield them before realizing her hand was being pulled into tiny pieces like she was made of sand. Panic set in a second after, anger replacing it when she heard the Other Max.  _ __   
__   
_ “This is what you’ve created,” Other Max said in a calm tone, almost like she didn’t care. Max was met with rapid images of hundreds of timelines and she saw every possible outcome of every possible choice she could’ve made. There were so many. All of them were pulling her. They all needed her. The clone on autopilot couldn’t last forever.  _ __   
__   
_ She had to wake up.  _ __   
__   
_ “There’s too many, Maxine.” Other Max laughed, sighing as she looked through the timelines with one of those stupid grins that people only did when they knew they were right.  _ __   
__   
__   
__   
__   
_ Wake up.  _ __   
__   
__   
__   
__   
__   
_ Wake up.  _ __   
__   
  
  
  
“Wake up!” Chloe had Max by the shoulders, shaking her in a desperate attempt to get her to wake up.    
  
Max fell back into this reality and the first thing she noticed was how bad it hurt. Everything hurt. She didn’t have the strength to lift her head to meet Chloe’s gaze but she had just enough to mutter something. It was too quiet. Chloe didn’t notice.    
  
“Max, Max! Come on!” Chloe moved her hand to tip Max’s head back when she saw blood again but stopped short of pressing her shirt to Max’s nose when she saw that the brunettes eyes were open. She had a moment of shock before regathering herself.    
  
“Can you walk?” Max shook her head at the question and tried to lift her hand; she’d only just gotten it off her leg when she lost the strength and it fell back down. Chloe leaned down to hook Max’s arm over her shoulder while she slid her own around Max’s midsection.    
  
“I guess the day is gettin’ cut short, hm?” Max was a bit harder to carry like this, with her whole body hanging like dead weight off Chloe’s side. The punk wouldn’t have been able to carry her if it wasn’t for the adrenaline rush she was on.    
  
_ Max was back in that place. She couldn’t see the horizon and there was no sky or ground. There was no sun but it wasn’t dark. She wasn’t in any reality now, just stuck between them.  _ __   
__   
_ “You left them all behind, Maxie. All of them. All of the past you’s, they’re all stuck. Just like you in this timeline. Did you really think you could ever save her? She was meant to die, in every reality. Any one of them you could’ve made, she was meant to die,” the Other Max was gloating now but Max only heard the half of it. She was watching the timelines. There were so many. There was one where Chloe died with William, there was one where William lived and Chloe died, there was one where Chloe died as a little girl. There was one where Chloe and Max made it like they said they would but even that couldn’t last, the next image Max saw was Chloe dying from an accident during a storm and the brunette herself attending the funeral.  _ __   
__   
_ Max almost laughed from the blatant display of irony.  _ __   
__   
_ “Don’t you get it, Max? This won’t last. She’ll die again,” the Other Max almost looked sorry for her, “she has to.”  _ __   
  
The brunette woke up again. She was laying on her side with her head in someone’s lap and a hand combing through her hair. She felt something being pressed to her face and reached up to push it away. The hand stopped before moving down to her shoulder, pulling her gently onto her back. Max looked up at Chloe through blurred vision and she could swear she saw something of a smile cross the punk’s face.    
  
“You scared the hell out of me, dude. What the hell happened?” Chloe looked down at Max with concern and neither of them moved. Max never responded and Chloe didn’t push. They stared at each other and the silence that surrounded them wasn’t bad this time.    
  
Max reached up and lightly cupped Chloe’s face and she almost turned into the contact. Chloe moved away when she remembered she was still supposed to be mad and slid out from under Max altogether. The brunette understood even if she wished she didn’t. This Chloe had no memories of that week. She didn’t remember the night at Blackwell or the dare. She didn’t remember what happened at the lighthouse or what they said to each other before Max went back in time.    
  
“It was the rewind,” Max eventually said after a few minutes of silence. Chloe was sat at Max’s desk when she spoke and the punk lifted her head to give Max her full attention.    
  
“First time in five years that I’ve used it. I guess it’d be the first time ever, actually, since I let you die,” Max’s voice was steady until the last bit and if Chloe noticed, she pretended not to.    
  
“Max, why’d yo—”   
  
“Why did I what, Chloe? Why did I save you?” Max sat up a little too fast but she ignored the vertigo. She could feel the anger waiting to spring forward at whatever Chloe said next.    
  
“I just don’t get it, Max,” Chloe’s voice was small and quiet, even in the silence that fell over them, “won’t it bring another storm or whatever?”   
  
Max paused at that, thinking of what she’d say. She could say the truth but it would reveal too much and she could lie but it wouldn’t do either of them any good.    
  
The brunette breathed out before lifting her gaze to meet Chloe’s, her brows furrowing slightly with a mixture of anger and sadness.    
  
“If it does, I know I’ll make the right decision this time.”


End file.
